The Prompt Pit

by Regina Wright

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Alternate Universe, Human, Twilight Sparkle, Roseluck, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Comedy
Length: 5665

Where stories and ideas go to die. Also prompts are written for your viewing pleasure.

This is where I drop my unfinished stories, one-shots that aren't long enough, big ideas that ran out of steam and also write prompts from whatever is posted in the comments.

Enjoy.

Published 2015-01-19 01:40:04 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-08 01:05:44 UTC

Five Nights With Shining Armor

Author's Note

A parody of Snuggle fics, Five Night's At Freddy and my old fic, The Doctrine of Gears.

*Beware, swearing ahead. Also humans.

Five Nights With Shining Armor

I was born to be a smoker, therefore I don't have the healthy lungs to be out-running a pack of psychos. Or possibly even the mental capability to think myself out of this situation. There's probably a lot of things I could be doing right now to assure my survival but there's nothing that is going to move me from this smoke break.

Today, I might die as a smoker with a Marlboro blunt wrapped around my cracked lips. I wish I felt something but I'm too tired for a pity party.

Despite the smoke passing my lips, stinking up the room and ash flaking on the marble floor, this wasn't a waiting game. This wasn't a wait to the sun hits the skies and those walking monster drop dead out there. They knew it and I knew it, today was the day I've slipped up. The sound of their damned hooves weren't going to go away.

Two hours ago, I would have said the sounds of their pawing and that awful 'clop clop' they make when they bang their hooves against wood was the second most hated sound in the world. But now, it's like a lullaby. Luring me into a unsuspecting hell. It seemed I've been slipping into rings of hell since I got here. Here in 'Who The Fucks Knows Where, Equestria.' All I wanted was some R&R on the company budget. Not to get summoned and dropped as a...

God, I can't think of anything. I'm tripping on sleep fumes and no matter how much I puff, I just can surmount enough energy to try anything else. I'm certain that the barricade I cobbled up would hold.

Maybe?

I spent a good thirty minutes circulating this set of chamber rooms, knocking over the dusty dressers and hauling trunks situated here. Brought over the fancy end tables and yanked off the curtains from the wide windows, revealing the night sky. I tied the doorknob of the door leading to the adjacent door and tricked those psycho to chase me through the other door. Then pushed with weak-sauce arms and shaking knees my mother always said I would need one day those dressers to block the other way in.

And since I'm a smoker, I could only do so much.

The door where all of them are waiting for me (because they're too stupid to try the other door, thank god) was slightly open despite my effort and it was my back keeping their forehooves from wedging it open. There's so many of them that if they really wanted to, they could storm their way in here.

But they're uh... Loopy as shit.

Only one of the ten Royal Guards out there needs to press their beef-cake hoof into the door and I'd be boned. And that's not counting the medical staff of three doctors and four nurses frothing and bumping their way into the front of the pack.

The world's getting blurry and the floor looking pretty inviting. Shit. Time for another dose from Mr. Cig. There's only so much this butt of a cigarette can do for me. The rest of my vacation supply are in my guest rooms, waiting for me. Man, I should've grabbed a full pack. I took a sweet, sweet drag. Mmh, the nicotine bleached all of my worries and I'm-

Shit, I felt my eyes close.

The cig isn't going to be helping me stay awake for much longer.

My nose wiggled, smelling the rubber ball tang of magic. That fucker was going to be showing up after all. Looks like my little errand didn't get him far away enough. I felt the magic in the air boil. That's the best way I can describe this syrup-like pressure sticking to me when the ponies turned. Whenever somebody cast a spell, I'd feel as a ripple. It was only supposed to be a temporary side-effect, my ass.

I heard the pop before I saw it and there he was, Shining Armor. The first time this happened, I'd thought he was trying to help me. He wasn't as loopy as the others but yeah, I was wrong. When these episodes occur, normal ponies don't remember me passing by and they certainly don't remember the ponies chasing after me. It's a normal night in Canterlot for everyone except me.

“Let me enjoy my last cigarette.” I held up a free hand as a sign of surrender while taking one more puff before putting out the light between my fingers. I was tired anyway. The unicorn's horn grew bright as he walked, approaching my shaking ass before he teleported us away.

Fuck.

Morning rose not soon enough, the sound of Shining's snoring was getting unbearable and I was getting sick and tired of the horn dragging up and down my neck with every inhale. And I couldn't help but smell his musk coat, reeking of metal and musk. Of dirt and some other fluffy smell I couldn't make out. His hoof dragged along my side and I shuddered, begging for someone to put it me out of my misery. Here I was trapped under a heavy jerk-off horse, cuddling me like a teddy while waiting for my chance to escape. His head moved to my hair, taking a sleepy nip of it. I cringed, calling every deity that I could name to take him off me.

There was a sound of door opening before I saw a maid walk in. She dropped her towels with a scandalized gasp and apparently that was all that was needed to walk Shining up. He sat up, smashing his hindquarters into my stomach as he looked at her and more importantly glared at me. There was a question in his eye, a growl in his throat.

I gave him the cockiest smile that I could manage. “It's not my fault, you're a cuddle-slut.”

Twilight Sparkle Is A Human

Author's Note

Dark escapist humor.

Twilight Sparkle Is A Human

“I'm not that good with foals or speeches so...” Taeko announced in front of a sea of students waiting on her every word. The new class representative replacing Taeko waved at her to get on with it. She gulped, looking down at her note cards and the podium she was using. Taeko Sano was announcing her acceptance speech as being the chosen student to be transferred for a one-year stay at Uma-Machi but it wasn't supposed to have such a big audience!

And why did they have to be so happy for her! She didn't want to go!

Her fists fell to her side as she ducked her head, her purple bangs brushing into her face. “Okay.” She breathed, “I can do this!” Taeko grabbed her note card and tore them half, sprinkling them like confetti as she walked to the middle of the stage and addressed her peers. She flicked her long hair, trusting the mic attached to her school sweater to stay attached and lifted a single finger to tap the center of her forehead.

A surge of power was released, purple light blinded the audience as Taeko shifted from a normal human girl into a purple unicorn with a cutie mark on each flank. “That's better.” Twilight neighed before remembering she was speaking to human foals. “Greetings! I am Twilight Sparkle of Princess Celestia's School For Gifted Unicorns! I know that this might strange seeing that I was formerly your fellow student Taeko Sano but I find I shouldn't be using illusions for this speech.”

“Behold, my magic and do not fear.”Twilight lit her horn and teleported from one side of the stage to the other. She lifted the podium with little strain and moved it left and right. She transformed the mic that was still on her form and changed it into a butterfly that kissed her nose. The crowd was awed, cheering and whooping for more forms of her wonderful magic. Even the new class representative swooned on his broom that he was holding.

“Years ago, I was sent on this planet to spread the message of Friendship and today, I continue you to do so. Though I may be going far away, I don't want any of friendships to be lost. You've confided with me your secrets, your dreams, your laughter and your hopes for the future. I may have gotten this transfer but that doesn't mean I wanted to leave you behind!”

“Twilight!” The crowd cried, already in tears and promising to follow her to Uma-Machi. “Twilight, we love you!”

“I love all my little humans.” Twilight winked. “Remember friendship is magic!”

Satoshi Tatsuo stared at the senior, ranting wildly to herself in a empty room. She was the resident freak of the school and all of her creepy shenanigans got her a warm bed in Uma-Machi Medical Institution.

Sano-san lifted a cardboard box and began making phew phew sounds like she had a laser or something. The cardboard spilled its contents of packing paper and ribbons and the girl began to laugh and laugh. Looks like she's having fun in crazy town as always.

Satoshi shook his head, sighing a dark trail of smoke and left the room quietly.

“Wait! I saw you, Spike!”

Roseluck's Cheap Job

Author's Note

Philosophical cop and robber silliness.

Roseluck's Cheap Job

“Curtains for he who stops The Saint Swippers...!”

That is the last time, Rose Luck, a useless mare and a even more useless security guard heard those words. Needless to say, Rose is at a bad time in her life where honestly, she only remembers the word 'Curtains' and failed to secure the intruder. Sometimes, she wondered why luck even her name. She should have been called Rose Suck... Why? Because everything was going to suck and hurt and bleed all over the concrete.

A unicorn, robed and wearing a goofy-looking mask (compared to the sinister ones in the museum he's robbing) whisper-shouts, “And this fate will be yours!” before his magic threw her to the side. Sounds simple, right? It's the side. During the brief pause of the magic reaches her fur, she stupidly thought back to all those cops and robbers books she read as a kid... Right to that paragraph in the middle of the story, usually dry but leads to the climax of ze robbery of ze phantom thief. There's always that part when the residing guards are thrown to the side and the thief gets away.

Of course, the same reference could be made for romance books where the big, firm stallion throws the leading mare to the side and ravishes her... She's a fan of those books too but getting back to the point at hand.

Rose has been thrown to the side. Just like those one-note characters that don't deserve names. The side. And if this was a book, she should have acted like a main character and did the main character thing. She could've fought back and made something of herself! Why couldn't she punch the flake in the jaw and called for back-up? Why couldn't she leapt out of his magic range and ambushed him and his group down another hallway?

She could see all of the possibilities of her putting the thief in his place or her getting rescued at the last moment by her co-workers that turned out to actually like her. She might of even got a raised because how many security guards hold their own against master-class thieves. Not many.

Except the side, yeah that side, she's been thrown to is a window.

Not a wall or a door or the floor. Great things that the thief could have chosen. Instead, he's chosen a window which says a lot about him. After all, she didn't see his face or even said two words to the guy. She didn't deserve to be thrown out a window by some street-pole of a stallion with a rose fetish. Here's a tip for the future, sowing pink petal ruffles on your black mask defeats the purpose of staying hidden.

But of course, she's not just making a big deal out of being tossed out the window like trash. That's rude. She's not rude. Rose could be mean or petty or sassy on any day but she's never been rude. But the window is on the third floor. The third floor. And you know, what does that say about this supposedly great phantom thief, indirectly committing murder via innocent windows. That doesn't sound noble or sexy of someone in the role of a grand, seductive cat burglar.

With no horn or wings, she's a goner.

“Yours...” She heard him repeat in that awful lisp of his as she plummeted to her death. That lisp all stallions make when they try poorly to sound mysterious and sexy at the same time.

At least when the Guard finds her corpse, it will have a smile.

"Boss, it looks like our lovely captive has awoken. Shall I gag her, Mr. One?"

Damn it.

In The Thousands of Worlds

Author's Note

Prologue and first entry for a horror scarred Alternate-Equestria written by Twilight Velvet. Dark with mention of death and culling.

In The Thousands of Worlds

Day --

In the earliest ~~fairytales~~ documents that raiders have managed to savaged from the ruins of the old country Equestria, the Great Frost was merely referred to as a long winter. This name was repeated in many status updates and weather reports for several weeks before being bumped up to a chilly spring. Three months after that, a cool summer. And three months after that, a crisp fall. Soon there was another winter, also called long but typical for that time of year.

I can't understand where my translation went wrong because as much as I write and study, only winter is similar to our word for frost. But still, I do not know what winter or spring or summer or fall are. This is only my speculation but I wager that the four were known as seasons, collectively stands as markers of the year.

I can only assume that these four seasons were different names for the Great Frost.

Day 42,

I'd like to pretend that all of the useless information that has been pounded into my skull by instructors has meaning. I'd like to pretend that after graduating and receiving a placement onto the committee, I am doing great work. And it is great work.

I don't have to do any heavy labor.

Night Light... Night Light... You haven't sent me a letter in such a while.

I don't have to have another child to send to the war.

Shining, I'm so sorry. I didn't know they lowered the age requirement.

I don't have to worry when I will get my next meal.

Because I have no one left to feed.

We of the White Ward do our appointed duty in coming up with new and creative measures on culling the population. It is for the greatness of the Harmonic Union that we weed and direct the masses as necessary.

Culling is such a nice word.

It sits on the tongue, choking the breath as you say it. Cull-ing. Far better than the less than insipid, killing or the cumbersome, murdering. And on that note, the term murdering is too personal. Also, banned from usage in our meetings. All we do is suggest hypothetical methods, perform experiments and if all goes well, a co-worker won't go missing.

And I'm not saying that I miss Polaris. I hated him. Still, with him gone as the eight case this week, I'm expected to be the next to go. Unless I come up with a clever method of efficient and timely death. And there I go again, sounding so morbid. I am not necessarily looking to kill or harm any of the ponies who live in this colony but somebody has to think of the bigger things in life. That being space.

This colony, Helm, can only retain so much space. I don't know what the council does with their time but when they decide on a whim that they need to uplift the inhabitants of a particular slum to make a crop field... I can't be the one to go no. Would any of them do it if they were in position? No and if one is foolish enough, they can die in my place.

Ponies these days can't be shot. We need to mind the ammunition stock. Ponies these days can't be burned alive. We need to mind the wood and smell. Ponies these days can't be poisoned through their rations. That could cause a mass panic. So I need to be clever. Oh I know, why don't we gather them all up. Say it's a celebration of sorts and um... Jeeze, this is hard.

Why don't we have the space, anyways? With all the fields needed hooves and the war brewing, why do we have to kill anyone. The war's been going for years, sending bodies back like no other. Oh, I have it. I make up a draft, declaring anyone who fit and has all their teeth to join up for registration and sent them off in to the war line to be chucked off. The ponies will freeze to death and I'll meet my quota.

And then I'll have another week to find my son in peace.

Tangerine Bleach

All good things turn to ash, especially when you're carrying lighter fluid. Look at that fucker burn! But because I'm a bit of a pyromaniac, please ignore the sounds of fire in the background. I have everything under control. What better way to start an intro than-

Oh shit... I didn't think cockroaches could fly! Fuck!

Ahem...

All things turn to ash, something something witty. Now then, allow me to introduce everyone who will be listening to these tapes. Mom and dearly departed Dad, I've gone to Ponyville despite all common sense, good sense, bad sense and car sense demanding I should turn back. By now, you've probably reported a missing person file and if by some luck you come across this tape or any of the others, it's your baby Scootaloo. Dumbass extraordinaire. If it helps when identifying my body should it be littered by holes by the military, mutated from close contact by the freaky spores coming from the freaky trees or I've been forced to use a cyanide tablet...

Mom... Mom...

Let me remind you that this is a pre-recorded message and though I can imagine the long line of swears running free about your irresponsible daughter, be cool. This probably doesn't mean much but I've really thought ahead, you know... About being dead or dying or being murdered or getting sick or getting mauled by a wild bear or...

Did I learn a lesson for Dad being put six feet under because of his belief of winging it? In your words, 'A divine smug son of a bitch,' until a pair of men took him on a ride and returned his body three months later. I learned that I shouldn't be caught. Yes, your lectures and your drives to the juvenile centers and your statistics on the scum who resort to criminal activity to feed their greed had no effect. Terrible, I know. I hope you don't find my body. I rather you read my letter I left on at the apartment and respond accordingly. As in upgrade the insurance policy for all the moola. Damn, I wish I was with you.

But to be honest, I'd rather be hit by the military and buried into some ditch somewhere before there's a TV show made in the future about crimes of the military complex. At least with this tape, I won't be Jane Doe. But you know, there's something grand in dying for the cause, I think.

Anyhoo, I'm wearing a pair of brown cargo pants and a black wife-beater under my signature orange vest. And yes, I drunk the last of the orange juice. I deserved the pick me up and I didn't see your name or that stupid note on the other side. Whoops.

To the cops and other military personnel, you can't blame a girl about being curious about her old home. Ponyville. The Ponyville Flats might have been nothing but another neighborhood in a city obsessed with horses and horse puns but it was my neighborhood. The people, the places, the sights... I can't accept that it's all gone. I can't accept any of your excuses. Really now, wiped out by a earthquake and meteor event? Predicted by all those scientists and officials but nobody could really act until it was too late! That's crazy talk. That's sci-fi crazy talk.

You can put it on all the news channels and print all the lies you want but I was there. There wasn't a meteor attack. It wasn't a fucking earthquake. Oh my bad, you redacted your earlier statements of the first few months to it being a catalytic industrial accident caused by a meteor hitting the factories as an earthquake made its way through the fault line. Ponyville isn't even on a fault line. The whole area is mostly flat outside of hills! Is that the best you could come up with? And why did it work! Why didn't anyone care!

Fuck you guys, it was a damned fog. There I said it. Call me crazy or psycho or whatever but it was a fog. A clear and sparkly mist taking things. And here's the crucial part, eating people and flinging their body parts everywhere. Arms and limbs and hands rotting and mutating into bizarre colors. Sheets of skin peeling off muscle and bone and the screams. I... Their screams... The shrieking of everyone who wasn't fast enough. I shouldn't have been fast enough but she...

She said that it was...

I can't accept that it's all gone. I want to see it with my own eyes even if I might catch my death. That's what's going to happen anyway. The reports of the PN-3 have been sky-rocketing with people filling the hospitals. Trying to explain to their doctors why a pinkie rotted or why they had a foot one day and lost it the next.

Not to mention the rising cases of people just dropping dead.

Don't say that this new super-virus specifically attacking bone structure and destroying skin cells has nothing to do with what I saw that day! Or with Ponyville! It's not a coincidence. Don't you think you should tell people what really happened? What experiment or testing or whatever went wrong? You've had plenty of time to investigate! And if you're not going to do it, I will.

I'm not going to spin a long tale on how I got passed the checkpoints and made it over the several barricades and forts you have surrounding the outskirts. I'd like my death to be the only death today. But I will make the observation that your military patrols are spotty. Your soldiers manning the line are sparse and I can't help but think that has more to do with you government stooges than anything I had a hand in.

So far into the wilderness, there's only so far a off-road jeep can go with all these freaky trees but I figured you guys would have had the place locked down. Roads galore, search lights, alarm traps this far in. I was prepared for more stealth than hiking which is all I'm predicting for the foreseeable future. But if I didn't already know that phone towers around here were down, I'd make a call for the hell of it. That's how terrible this is.

Makes me feel like I could have done this a while ago. Shit.

And finally to you, dear listeners. This is a snuff tape of a set of snuff tapes. I'm not going to pretend that this will be a happy story. That I will go to Ponyville, find the truth and get to go home as if nothing happened. It didn't have a happy beginning, it certainly didn't have a happy middle and though this is the beginning for you... It's the end of me. I have to make peace with that. I'm a fool. An idiot. A true and blue dumbass walking into her death. There is no if. Only when. And where and likely not even a why from whatever does me in. Ponyville is still ten miles in front of me and I can only imagine what will happen which each passing step forward.

Onward, we go and onward, we'll die. At least like this, I'm not lonely. It feels like I've been living on borrowed time since Ponyville and it's time to put things in order.

Author's Note

A horror story set in the Equestria Girls verse about Scootaloo heading to Ponyville after a strange incident occurred in Ponyville, wiping the place off the map. Or that's what the military says. This chapter includes Tape 1 and 2 which is basically the prologue.

This chapter was pre-read by Izanagi. It was thanks to him I decided to go at the story in a different way.

The reason why I haven't posted this as it's own story is because I decided to write it in third-person limited than first person and that also meant I had to change the outline and blah blah writer's problems. So here it is in it's raw form. Scootaloo, please calm down!

Taeko Sano Is A Unicorn

It was in the late summer afternoon when all of the visiting third-graders were gathered in front of the kindergartners to say their goodbyes. But because the air-conditioner was broken, most of the kindergartners laid their heads on their desks and moaned when they were addressed by their teacher to pay attention. Yet one of the children, Satoshi Tatsuo, lifted his head to rest on his palm as a representative of his class.

'After all, somebody has to it,' he yawned as he looked around and noticing he really was the only one with their head up. Even the teacher was resting her head, ignoring the frantic offended gestures the third-graders' teacher silently sent her.

Satoshi had short blond hair, pale eyes and thick dry skin that would clump around his knuckles. The smell of soot and burnt wood followed him everywhere and when he sighed, the stench of his breath would have his closest classmates emptying their seats. From his desk, he tapped a long and sharp fingernail as the students recited their, who I am, what I learned, and why they were grateful for this experience. Which was funny for him because the way they were acting, they weren't grateful at all.

The third-graders talked down to them during study time, sniffed at them when they ate and whined when they took their nap. In fact, Satoshi wasn't exactly sure why the third-graders had to have come at all. If anything, they were brought to remind the kindergartners how lame and dumb the big kids were.

Satoshi yawned again, getting ready to put his head down if the teacher couldn't see him on his best behavior when he felt the stillness pass over. The third-graders were quiet. The third-graders were never quiet. They talked using their big words, typed things into their shiny phones and made constipated sounds as they waited for their turn. But now it was silent as a girl moved from the back of the line, her head hung low as she cradled a notebook to her chest.

Was she really respected or something? Satoshi sat up just in time to see a school loafer attached to a foot purposely stick out and the girl tripped, rolling into a ball as she collided painfully into the teacher's podium. All of the other third-graders broke out into laughter and quickly resumed what they had been doing before once they were done. Especially when their teacher took a nasty look at them before turning that piercing gaze to the girl in question.

The girl stood up slowly, rubbing her forehead and muttering something under her breath. Orange or something. It didn't make sense to Satoshi but it was obvious this girl was the loser with the capital L in her class. Satoshi took a few seconds to feel sorry for her and dropped his head down.

Out of nowhere, there was a loud snapping sound in his ear. He knew that sound from somewhere...

Satoshi dragged his head up slightly, his eyes meeting the curious ones of the loser girl. The first thing he noticed was her long, black hair spreading around him as she looked down. It felt so, so familiar. Then her purple eyes that lit up as her lips made a sloppy smile before straightening into a line. Then her uniform, a white blouse and navy blue star-printed skirt. It occurred to Satoshi to get mad at this loser girl about not knowing to keep her sounds and most likely, her fingers, to herself but the girl pulled away before Satoshi was able to say anything.

Yet the word, “Typical.” slipped from his mouth, causing the girl to wince. Satoshi blinked. Why did he say that? The loser girl wasn't a typical anything. She was just a loser. Why didn't he just call her that?

“I'm not that good with foals or speeches so...” The girl scratched at her head and bobbed her head as if nodding to someone in her head. But wait... Did she just call him a foal? “...I-mean children. Children is the correct terminology regardless of species. Wait... That sounded wrong.” The loser girl flipped open her notebook and started dragging a finger down the pages. But from Satoshi's side, he could read the purple maker hiragana inscribed on the front. It took him some time but he started to sound it out.

Ningen no Kotoba to Kan'yo-ku.

Ningen meant human.

Kotoba meant words.

And Kan'yo-ku made sense once he said it out loud. So putting all together and using what he knew about languge which was a lot. He got it but gripped his head once he figured out what it said.

Human Terms and Idioms.

What a weird name. This only proved more of her loser-ness. Only freaks would be carrying something cold and heartless sounding like Human Terms and Idioms. And idioms? Was she too good to write common phrases?

T-Y-P-I-C-A-L with a mega-sized T.

“Salutations. I am Taeko Sano of Class 3-A of Kirinyama.” She recited, her voice a robotic drone. “Today, I learned about childcare and the necessary need for a nap time for children under the age of six-” Satoshi tuned her out because what was that really? He remembered this particular third-grader. She sat next to her teacher the entire time until it was time to clean up. And even then, she was all by herself sweeping and picking up the trash like she was too good to ask for help.

But something was still bugging him.

“Thank you for taking care of us.” Taeko bowed, her hair sweeping down her shoulders and eyes meeting his for the second time. That does it. Did she really think that she was going to get away with it without him saying something?

“Twilight.” He slammed his small fist on to the desk top, bring all eyes on him. “Did you really call me a foal? A foal, you rude unicorn?!” He sighed, feeling the back of his throat grow hot. Visible white steam flew from his mouth but Satoshi paid it no mind, he had to get this of his chest. “And that book of yours is terrible, specially the hoof-writing. Have you thought about writing the title in English? English looks really good these days and you won't have to worry about writing in the open. I mean, kids these days say they know English but they don't.”

Taeko blinked at him and he blinked at her, completely baffled by what he said. Satoshi ducked his head and scratched at his neck, “I mean, Onee-san, I really like horses too. But I don't want to be a foal, I want to be a super cool racehorse!” He babbled, watching as Taeko grew cold. Why was she looking at him like that?

She turned from him and faced her classmates, eyeing each and everyone who glared back at her with a disinterested look on their faces. Satoshi couldn't see her face but felt a drop of sweat run down his nose as he stared at her tightly gripped fist. “Did any of you put him up to this?” She said, her voice a low, angry whisper.

Her classmates didn't care.

And whatever will Taeko had in her went out like a light. Her presence seemed to shrink, her back bent and she stepped back in line, becoming just another one of the annoying third-graders.

Satoshi dropped his head as another third-grader came up to speak, feeling sick to his stomach. Something ached inside of him and his eyes fluttered close as he waited for the day to end. Summer vacation would be starting up soon and he'll put this moment behind him.

The girl was a loser. She must have spread some of his loser-ness off on him.

Author's Note

The big sister to Twilight Sparkle Is A Human, a anime-ish shoujo inspired story.

I'm posting it here because I've finally made some headway in writing the redraft and I've taken it in another direction than what I planned here (which wasn't much). The new story is very much darker than this.